Forbidden Love
by KBeternallove
Summary: George realizes that he loves Fred, but he doesn't think that he can have him. Mentions of Drarry and Lucius/Severus/Remus. Part of a larger work. AU. Smut. Slash. Angst.
1. The Return of the Pranksters

"The Order needs the two of you to go back to Hogwarts. Since Dumbledore is gone, we need more people to watch out for Harry," Headmistress McGonagall informs us from behind her desk.

The room looks very much the same as when it belonged to Dumbledore; he had a knack for pulling us in here after we made some of our more devious pranks on Filch, but he would often just laugh with us and offer us some kind of candy. The Headmistress looks like she has aged ten years since Bellatrix murdered Dumbledore. Snape stands brooding in the corner; I guess some things never change.

"I don't wanna," Fred whines next to me.

"Me neither," I respond confidently.

"I think it is unanimous. We refuse," Fred concludes with a wink to me.

Headmistress McGonagall's nose flares and her eyes widen; we've gotten this look many times before. McGonagall stands gracefully and walks slowly from behind her golden desk. Her floor length robes look like Deputy Headmaster Snape picked them out for her.

Her glare intensifies as she closes the distance between us and says, "I didn't ask if you wanted to come back to Hogwarts or not. I told you that the Order, which you both wanted to be members of, needs you to return in order to protect Harry Potter. If I wanted to know your opinions, I would have asked."

"We're too old to be in Hogwarts; we're nineteen now," I inform the Headmistress.

"We've thought of that, Mr. Weasley. After looking deep into the Ministry's archives, we found a law that states that all witches and wizards that own magically inclined shops must have graduated from a wizarding school. You two have neither graduated nor taken your N.E.W.T.s," Snape spoke up from his position near the wall.

"You can't be serious," Fred groans.

"I am," Snape pauses for dramatic effect, "deadly serious. The Order needs you here. We need students here to listen for signs of The Dark Lord's influence. We also need people to make sure Potter doesn't do anything incredibly stupid."

My mouth falls open in rebut, but McGonagall interrupts, "If you two want to keep your joke shop, you need to come back to school to finish up your final year. The Ministry will close and seize your shop if you refuse."

I grab Fred's shoulder and pull him into a huddle across the room. Our matching suits rustle as we lean in close to whisper. They probably hear us anyway, but it is all for show.

"I don't think we have a whole lot of choices here, Georgie," Fred hurriedly whispers into my ear.

"I agree, Freddie. If we don't come back, we lose everything we've worked so hard for."

Fred goes silent, and I can see the gears churning in his head, "All we can do is agree to come back."

"Come back," I grin wickedly, "and stir up some trouble. We could test out some our of newest products like we did in the old days,"

Fred's grin matches mine, ear to ear. This might not be such a bad thing after all. After a quick nod to confirm our plans, we turn around and walk back to the waiting professors in step.

Fred, always the wonderful salesman begins, "We acknowledge that we need to come back, but you must agree to some of our terms in a legal and binding contract."

Snape groans and quips, "You have no room to make terms. You lose your shop if you don't come back."

"No," I return, "we could always transfer technical ownership of the shop to a relative of ours. We don't have to lose anything. Now, back to our terms. Freddie," I gesture to my twin to begin.

Fred steps forward and removes a quill and parchment from his jacket pocket. He sits the parchment on the table, and the quill hovers over it waiting for Fred to begin speaking. We may not have graduated from Hogwarts, but that doesn't mean that we don't know how to legally cover our asses.

"First, we want the seventh year status that we had when we left," McGonagall nods her consent to that one easily. "Secondly, we will take the classes we want to take regardless of our O.W.L.s," McGonagall passes and purses her lips but nods to that one as well. "Thirdly, we want to graduate after this year regardless of how we do in our classes."

"That is absurd," Snape breaks in.

"It is one of our stipulations," I tell Snape.

"This is life and death, you fool. You are doing this for the Order. You are doing it to protect all those you love. This isn't a game, Mr. Weasley."

"It is fine, Severus. Do you really want them here longer than absolutely necessary," the Headmistress cuts him off from more of his speech.

It appears that Snape weighs the free-ride against the prolonged stay of us. He pales probably thinking of spending years with us roaming the halls of Hogwarts. He angrily nods for Fred to continue.

"We do not in any way want to take potions class," Snape visible sighs at that one. "Lastly, we want to prank and test our products here."

Snape lunges from the wall to stand mere feet from where Fred is standing. Anger radiates off of the Potions professor. Fred doesn't even bat an eyelash at the pissed off potions master.

He spits, "That will not happen. We will not allow you to roam the halls as if you are kings testing your horrible products on those poor students. What if something goes wrong with one of your products? The only reason that you got away with it before was that Albus thought it was funny; I do not think that it is funny at all."

"Then we don't have a deal," Fred says nonchalantly as he rolls up the parchment and puts the quill away.

"Hold on, Mr. Weasley. This is what I am willing to give you. You can take any other classes you want, but you must take Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin. Defense Against the Dark Arts is the only class in which you have to maintain your grades; you must be ready in case of an attack. I agree that you cannot test things on the smaller students, but the older ones are more than capable of making their own decisions. Sixth and seventh years only. If a single child gets hurt in your pranks, though, you will have to answer to me. Does that sound reasonable?

Fred mulls it over for a moment before turning his head to me. His brown eyes seek the answer in mine. I give him a sly half-smile and a nod. Fred replaces the objects on the desk. The quill writes down the agreement faster than any human hand could. Fred signs, and I do the same. I hand the parchment to the Headmistress to sign her agreement and Severus to sign as a witness.

Severus sneers as he grudgingly hands the parchment and quill back to Fred. Fred looks it over. Fred uses his wand to vanish the items to where they came from.

Fred gives the two professors his most winning smile before he adds, "We need to be getting back to our shop soon. Unless there is something else to discuss-"

"We must be one our way," I continue. "See you in a week."

Fred and I walk to the door in step without waiting to see if they had anything else to say. We leave the office and the Hogwarts ground without any trouble. I grab hold of Fred's hand and Apparate us back to the shop. We have some packing to do.


	2. Getting Filch

"Come on, Georgie, this was your idea. You are the mastermind behind this one. Filch will be back any moment."

It's the first day of school, and we decided that Filch needed to be pranked. It's been a long time since we got him, and we need to start the year off right. I found a secret passage into Filch's Office from the dungeons, and we couldn't resist pranking our arch-nemesis. We even got Peeves in on this. This one is going to be a good.

"Are you going to help me or not," Fred interrupts my thoughts.

I tear my eyes off the backside of my twin and get back to work. I don't know what's gotten into me; I can't stop staring at Fred in inappropriate ways.

"How many do we have so far?" I ask.

"We have five scattered around the room," Fred pauses and looks at me amused, "Are you going to stop staring at by butt sometime today? Georgie?"

Fred snaps in my face to bring me back to the real world. I have undoubtedly been staring for the past couple of minutes while he has been working. I need to stop this before he thinks that it is more than me spacing out.

"I was just wondering what I looked like from behind," I quickly cover.

"I never realized you were such a narcissist, Georgie. Do you like what you see," he asks as he wiggles his butt in my direction.

I don't answer him and get back to work. I do like what I see but not because it looks like me. I'm not a narcissist. I want to look at him not me.

Fred and I put more of them around the room. We place them on his wardrobe, bed, desk, and anywhere we think it is necessary. We slightly altered the polyjuice potion to work on normal objects; when Filch comes into the room, we will spell the objects. The spell will fade in an hour or so, and it will leave behind our logo. We want Filch to know who is doing this to him and what to expect for the rest of the year. No one knows that we are back this year.

We hear a large commotion in the hallway just as we put the final touches into our prank. I place a calling card on the corner of Filch's desk as Fred pushes the button under the desk and pulls me by my hand into the secret exit behind the large cabinet by the door. We seal it shut behind us just in time for Filch to come into the room. I whisper the words to the spell we created for this very occasion.

"...and Peeves, if you try to stick a quill up there again, you will regret the day you ever decided to haunt this school."

Fred and I stay close to the wall to hear Filch's reaction. We wouldn't miss this for the world. The door slams shut, and Filch shuffles into the room.

"I've got a treat for- What are you doing up on the cabinet, Mrs. Norris," the squib asks.

A meow comes from the opposite side of the room.

"Merlin, there are two of you," he exclaims.

A chorus of meows fills the office. Something hits the floor as he realizes there are now eight Mrs. Norris copies in there. If only we could be in there to see his face, but just knowing we made him want to pull the remainder of his hair out will have to suffice.

We hear Filch running around his office trying to find the real Mrs. Norris. He stops at each one and talks to it, but he won't find the real Mrs. Norris here. We left her in Snape's office earlier this morning. We thought it not much of a prank until we remembered that Snap is allergic to cats; we may have looked in his medical file back in fifth year. He will be sneezing for a week.

Fred offers me his arm like a gentleman, and I take it. We stroll down the dank hallway. A screaming of "Weasleys" sees us out of the corridor and into the dungeon. Fred twirls me around to face him when we exit the corridor. Fred kisses my hand with as much flourish as he can muster as he lets go of it.

"Freddie, I wonder what face he was making when he realized we were back," I say.

"I wish I could have seen it," Fred returns dreamily.

"It probably looked like this," I say as I roll my eyes back into my head and place my hands on either side of my slacken jaw.

Fred laughs from deep in his chest, "I wonder how long Snape is going to be sneezing."

We walk back to the Gryffindor Tower in a fit of laughter. Only the youngest students don't stare at us as we make our way back. No one expects to see us here. Here, we are legends.


	3. Arguing

All of the students are gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast. Most of the students are sluggish this morning; it doesn't help that it is raining or that it is Monday. The ceiling reflects the torrent outside. The clouds don't look like they will be breaking any time soon. The perfect way to begin a Monday. There is only one student who isn't affected by the dreary day: Fred.

Fred is turned away from me on the bench to face Lavender Brown. He's been flirting with her all morning; I don't think there is anything that he hasn't complimented. Her eyes. Her smile. Her hair. And that isn't even the tip of the iceberg. She did become pretty in the time that we were gone, but the words coming out of Fred's mouth still make me want to vomit. It makes me angry to hear him talking to her like that, but I don't know why.

"Lavender, you exquisite woman, if I said you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?"

Where does he come up with this stuff? It is disgusting. The grip on my fork is turning my knuckles white. My eggs sat uneaten and untouched, the orange juice has been equally ignored. I don't think that I can stomach this for much longer; I have to end this. I can't listen to him talk to _her _any longer.

"Fred, can we have a moment?"

"Give me a minute. Lavender and I are talking now."

He didn't even have the decency of turning around to look at me when he brushed me off. He's too focused on her eyes that he got lost in or something along those sickening lines. My built in best friend isn't supposed to brush me off for some girl. Jealously rears its ugly head at the thought of Lavender stealing Fred from me.

"Fred..." I pathetically begin.

"Georgie, you're being rude. I'm in the middle of a conversation."

My fork drops to my plate. The clatter echoes, and the room goes silent; Hogwarts students are always ready for drama or our pranks. Every eye has turned towards us in order for them to catch every detail. Fred turns to face me to see what is wrong. The anger on his face washes away when he looks at me.

"What's wrong, Georgie," his brow furrows in worry. "You don't look so good."

"Of course, I don't look well. I'm nauseated from what I've seen here. It's disgusting. Do you actually want to date her, or are you just teasing her like every other girl so far. We aren't even supposed to be here. You are too old for her," I rant softly in hopes that the whole school won't know what I'm saying.

Fred and all those within hearing distance drop their jaws at what I said. Fred closes and opens his mouth repeatedly as if he was trying to figure out what to say. I've never spoken to him like that in all of our years together. He reaches out to try to touch my forehead, but I move out of his reach. A puzzled look crosses his faces as he reaches out to grab my arm, but, again, I wiggle away.

"Sit sill and tell me what's wrong. I just want to see if you have a fever," Fred whispers in agitation.

I scoot over more, but I've run out of room because Neville is blocking my way over. Fred creeps over in an almost comical way and reaches for me, but I hop up and start walking away.

"Don't make me hex you," I hear the threat but keep going as every eye follows me out.

I feel my twin close behind me, but I don't care. I don't feel well; something is wrong, but I don't know what it is. My chest aches as if I have been punched. All I can think about is Fred. All I can ever think about is Fred.

I march out of the Great Hall without a backwards glance because I already know who is following me out. I walk down the first hallway I come to. A first year sees my hell driven stomping and flees, and the hallway becomes eerily deserted. All of the other students must be in the Great Hall.

"George, please wait," I stop when I hear the desperation in his voice and my given name; he's called me Georgie for as long as I can remember.

Fred catches up and circles around me. The worry in his eyes is overwhelming; it is so overwhelming that I can't maintain eye contact with him. Fred grabs both of my shoulders and squeezes lightly to comfort me.

"Hey, Georgie. What's wrong? Was it Lavender? I'm sorry that I brushed you off for some girl. You're my brother, my twin. You are more important to me than any girl," he pleads as if his life depends on it.

My gaze is cast to the ground. I can't look into his eyes; the eyes that are so similar to mine. I focus on the 'G' on his mom-made sweater: we decided to see how many people we could confuse today (so far six, including Ron). A firm hand pulls my chin up to look into his eyes. Love not disappointment meets my gaze.

Without thinking, I lean forward and press my lips to his. His lips are soft unlike my chapped ones. Something different about us. I feel Fred freeze at the contact; he must not know how to deal with the situation, not that I blame him. The moment seems to last forever but not long enough. As I pull my lips away, I open my eyes to the sight of pure shock. Fred's eyes are as wide as I imagine they'd be if I had killed our mother right in front of him or grew a third arm. Our eyes meet; I can usually read them, but this time I don't know what I see.

I jump back and direct my vision back to the speckles on the floor that had caught my attention earlier. I feel my cheeks flaming red to match my hair.

"Fred, I-,"

"Listen, Georgie-" Fred tries to say at the same time.

"NO, Fred. I haven't been well. Something is not right."

"Georgie, I," I hold my up hand to stop anything that he might have said.

"I'm going to the Hospital Wing to see if I've been hit with a spell or slipped a potion. I'm sorry for that, umm, thing."

I turn around and head towards the Grand Staircase. I can feel his eyes on me, but I know he won't follow me. I'm glad that he won't because I have no intention of visiting Madame Pomfrey. I need to get a grip before I get taken to St. Mungo's for wanting my twin.

I make it to the top of the staircase and turn to look at Fred. He hasn't moved except for the hand that he moved to cover his mouth. He seems too horror-struck to move. I hope I didn't hurt him or ruin our bond. I don't know what I'd do if I lost my best friend.


	4. Snow

A few days have passed since I kissed Fred. I thought that he would question me about it, but he hasn't said a word to me. He didn't avoid me. He didn't yell at me. He didn't even tell anyone as far as I can tell. He didn't make fun of me or tease me. He just acted like it never happened. Fred treats me like he did before; however, I see him watching me more often.

I walk down the stairs from the dorm and see Hermione, Ron, and Fred in front of the fireplace working on a ten page Defense Against the Dark Arts paper that Professor Lupin assigned over a week ago. My completed paper sits on my bed upstairs where I just finished it. I have neither a need nor a desire to join the three of them. Fred would just watch me the whole time. I go for a walk even though it is nearly midnight.

I wander the hallways searching for something that might not have an answer. I don't know what's wrong with me. My heart beats harder whenever I see him. My breath catches and I can't focus on anything besides him. My chest hurts when he isn't around; it feels like it aches for him. I don't know what's wrong, but it needs to go away now.

My feet and my mind both wander aimlessly. I finally come back to the present to find myself in the Courtyard. A thin layer of snow coats everything, including me as I've probably been standing here for a few minutes. Fat snow flakes are falling quickly. It's too warm for snow, though; it must be magically produced. I'm not alone out here.

I see a trail of footprints in the snow ten feet to my right that goes around a bush. I don't see anymore footprints so they must be behind the shrub still. I don't want to disrupt anyone, but the curiosity of who is producing snow at this hour of night outweighs my desire to be alone.

I quietly walk around the bush to see Harry sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. I don't know what his problem is, but I know that misery enjoys company.

I plop down on the bench beside him, and he doesn't even look up. I can see that he's been crying, but he seems lost in thought: the kind of lost in thought that comes from heart problems. I'm curious about who could be on Harry's mind and heart.

"Fred," I hear finally.

"I'm George," after all this time he still doesn't know us apart.

"I know who you are. I live with you guys, for Merlin's sake. Fred is the person on your mind," Harry says patiently.

I didn't realize I had been that obvious, but I guess I haven't made as many jokes or pranks of late. I don't smile as much anymore. I'll have to watch how I act to avoid suspicion from now on.

"Yeah," I whisper unintelligently.

"Don't worry, George, I won't tell. I know what it's like to have feelings for someone you shouldn't."

A half-smile graces Harry's lips. I don't know if the smile is reassuring or sad. We sit in silence for a moment left to our own thoughts.

"Why snow," I finally break the silence. "Most would've chosen rain to complement their problems."

Harry runs a hand through his hair. He looks so old. He doesn't look like a seventeen year old, but being the Chosen One robs you of your childhood. He's had the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders since he was one.

"I realized I had feelings for him third year when it was snowing. It was in Hogsmead. I've been so scared, though. I still am. He could be trying to hurt me. Just getting close so that he can strike."

"Do you think he would?"

Harry pauses a moment to presumably think over my question. His eyebrows crease in concentration.

"No, George, he wouldn't. I just feel that something big is about to happen. People have been trying to kill me since I was a baby. Everyone that I love dies trying to protect me. I can't be too careful."

I process his words slowly. I can see where he is coming from; his life has been full of death and murder. People dying to save him. People dying to kill him. It must be hard to trust people.

"So, what's Fred done to piss you off," Harry abruptly changes the subject.

"He hasn't done anything," I sigh. "I just...He makes me feel funny inside. I don't know what it is. I also may have kissed him."

"You kissed him," Harry exclaims.

"I said 'may have.' I leave it open to interpretation," I smile.

"Merlin, I've missed that smile. I know it can be difficult at times, but follow your heart. This war can take any of us at any moment; you need to live because today might be your last. Tell him how you feel."

I know he's right, but I don't know if I can risk everything Fred and I have because of a funny feeling in my tummy and a skipped heartbeat now and then. It gets stronger everyday: a feeling that something is missing. A hole that keeps ripping more.

"What if I ruin everything," I whisper.

"You just have to trust that everything will work out. Talk to him. You won't ruin anything; you two are too close for that."

Harry looks deep into my eyes to emphasize his point. The blue pierces my soul in a way that would make Dumbledore proud. They've seen so much in his short life.

I can tell this conversation is coming to an end. I stand up and walk around the bench. I hadn't noticed, but the snow is at blizzard severity. The torrent that is undoubtedly in Harry's mind has worsened the weather.

I put my hand on Harry's shoulder, "I know that Draco won't hurt you."

I walk away, but Harry stops me, "How do you know," he sputters.

I almost can't stop the laugh that bubbles to my lips, "C'mon, Harry. You two have the chemistry of a teenage romance novel."

Harry smiles at this. A faint blush covers his cheeks. In this moment, he looks so young. So fragile. Not the warrior sent to defeat Voldemort

"I know he won't hurt you," I toss over my shoulder as I head away, "because the looks he gives you aren't the looks of someone who is going to kill you."

I leave Harry's audience to reenter the castle. As soon as I enter the castle, the blizzard stops. I brush the snowflakes off of my shoulder as I walk back to the Common Rooms. Maybe it wasn't Harry's inner turmoil; maybe it was mine.


	5. Nightmares

I wake up drenched in sweat. It was the same nightmare that I've been having for awhile now. I don't know why, but I've been having them for the past couple of weeks, and they've gotten worse since we came back to the Burrow for Christmas vacation. The feeling that my chest is being torn in two intensifies each day. The only reprieve I have is if Fred is close to me.

"Georgie, is everything okay," Fred says as he places a hand on my shoulder and lights the tip of his wand.

"Yeah," I whisper hoarsely.

"You were screaming," Fred says worriedly. "Are you sure that everything is okay?'

I shake violently and raise they blanket to cover my face as the tears fall. I know Fred is here, but I'm still scared. A sob wracks my body, and Fred nudges me over. Fred gently pulls the blanket off of my head and wipes away the tears that have collected under my eyes. He curls up around me like we did when we were children. He holds me tightly and whispers nonsense in my good ear. It takes awhile, but the tears eventually slow, but the shaking continues.

"What's gotten you so worked up, Georgie," Fred asks when I've calmed down.

"I had a bad dream," I choke out.

"I guessed that one. Talk to me about it," Fred soothingly rubs circles into my back.

I sniffle pathetically, "I had a dream that they got you, Freddie. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tortured you in front of me. He made me watch while he slowly killed you. I lost you, and there was nothing I could do about it," I sputter.

"Hey, look at me. I'm right here, and I am fine if I may say so myself. It's alright," Fred pulls me closer even as his words sound light and carefree.

After a few minutes of lying there, my breath returns to normal. Fred tries to leave the bed, but I whimper at the loss of his body. I want him to hold me like we held each other after nightmares when we were children. I need to feel him next to me so that I know that he is okay.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight," Fred asks uncertainly.

I nod and I feel him lie back down next to me. Fred extinguishes the tip of his wand and wraps his arm protectively around me. The pain in my chest eases as he settles in next to me. My vision slowly fades away as I listen to Fred's steady breathing.


End file.
